


this is me trying

by minty (mintyyfresh)



Series: minty tries Febuwhump 2021 [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, awesamdad, i guess, i tag like shit yall know this, i'm making that a tag idfc, no beta we die like edward the enderman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:34:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29601132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintyyfresh/pseuds/minty
Summary: “I don’t know what happened,” Tommy muttered hoarsely. “Sam, what happened? Where is everyone?” He paused to take a shuddering breath. His voice cracked. “Is everybody dead?”Sam scooped the kid up in his arms, holding him tight to his chest. “Everyone’s okay, kiddo, I promise,” he muttered under his breath, though he had no idea whether or not he was being honest. Tommy cried softly in his grasp, and Sam swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, turning his route back towards spawn.Screw the rendezvous. This was his fucking kid.And he needed to get him home.-----Sam doesn't know how to navigate this road. But Tommy needs him, so he's not going anywhere.(Febuwhump Day 23: "Don't look")
Relationships: Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, platonic - Relationship
Series: minty tries Febuwhump 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2174757
Comments: 16
Kudos: 277





	this is me trying

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! Welcome to my first fic of my series using the Febuwhump prompts! I loved the prompt list and thought it would be great practice. It's literally the end of February, but I have two works written already and I'm going to try to crank out at least one more by the time the month ends. My 5&1 fic took for fucking EVER, and while I'm more or less happy with it, it sucked up all my writing energy this month. 
> 
> So, out of order, here's Day 23: "Don't Look". Work title is from the Taylor Swift song of the same name.
> 
> Thanks so much for the continued support, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (And naturally, nothing in this is remotely shippy. That's fucking disgusting. As of right now, this should be within the boundaries of both creators in this story, but if I find out otherwise it will be deleted immediately. Tommy is a little bit of a little bitch in this, but that was just to serve my plot like the shitty writer that I am. In no way do I actually think of him like that, nor do I condone people babying him. If you do that, stop. It's fucking weird.)

Red. 

Red was fucking  _ everywhere _ . And Sam didn’t know if it was from the blood of his allies or the slimy vines of his enemy, but the ground was absolutely painted with it. 

It was probably a mix of both, if he was being honest with himself.

The acrid tang of something metallic filled the air as he breathed, and Sam wrinkled his nose. He was always a builder, not a fighter, and staring out over the sea of carnage, he was reminded why. 

That’s not to say he didn’t help, of course. During the battle, he had been rigging redstone contraptions to slow down the egg’s spread, trip up its supporters and stall their progress in overtaking the lands of the server. He had simply been out of the bloodbath, away from the massacre that was currently smeared all over his work boots. He grimaced. 

Yeah, Sam would take simple engineering over this horror any day of the week. 

It didn’t really matter what he preferred, though, because he had to get through this field. He had to get to the rendezvous, meet his friends and help prepare for the next fight. This war was long from over, and as horrific as it was, he needed to get there somehow.

He stepped forward and winced at the  _ squelch _ of his shoes on the bloodied grass. Steeling himself for a moment, he closed his eyes tightly and kept walking. 

Step.  _ Squelch. _

Step.  _ Squelch. _

Step.  _ Squelch. _

He might just throw up.

Step.  _ Squelch. _

Step.  _ Squelch. _

Step.  _ Squelch. _

He was going to puke all over his gore-stained boots. 

Step.  _ Squelch. _

Step.  _ Squelch. _

Step.  _ Squelch. _

If he wasn’t propelled by the knowledge that his friends needed him, he would have passed out on the crimson grass. 

Step.  _ Squelch. _

Step.  _ Squelch. _

Step...whimper?

Sam whipped his head around to see what could have possibly made that sound. All his allies were supposed to be at the rendezvous. All the supporters of the egg were supposed to be worshipping it or some other cult-type shit. No one was supposed to be here at all.

His eyes focused on a small figure about a dozen yards away, rocking back and forth. And Sam’s heart sank. 

Somehow, the sickening sounds of the blood, vines, and grass beneath his boots didn’t bother him as he sprinted over to the child. He knew exactly who that was. They didn’t belong out here. 

He skidded to a halt next to the kid, far smaller than he should have been. He reached out a tentative hand to the boy’s shoulder, and he felt his heart crack in his chest. 

“Tommy?” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. 

The boy sniffled, then raised his head to make reluctant eye contact. Sam wanted to cry. 

Tommy was absolutely covered head to toe in blood (whose, Sam had no idea), and his dull eyes had no gleam to them. The kid looked absolutely broken. 

“I don’t know what happened,” Tommy muttered hoarsely. “Sam, what happened? Where is everyone?” He paused to take a shuddering breath. His voice cracked. “Is everybody dead?”

Sam scooped the kid up in his arms, holding him tight to his chest. “Everyone’s okay, kiddo, I promise,” he muttered under his breath, though he had no idea whether or not he was being honest. Tommy cried softly in his grasp, and Sam swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, turning his route back towards spawn.

Screw the rendezvous. This was his fucking kid. 

And he needed to get him home. 

“How is there so much blood?” Sam’s shirt dampened with Tommy’s tears. “How can there be so much?” Sam hoisted the boy higher in his arms and pressed his free palm against the back of Tommy’s head, pressing his head closer into his chest. 

“Don’t look, okay?” Sam croaked out, stroking once honey-blond hair now stained crimson. “Don’t look. Can you do that for me, buddy?” His shirt crumpled with a slight nod from Tommy, too tired to even fight the suggestion. Sam’s shoulders sagged. Thank goodness. 

Something rumbled against his chest, and Sam realized Tommy was sobbing once again. Oh, shit. He really wasn’t prepared for this kind of thing. 

“Tommy?”

He was answered with a weak sound of affirmation. Sam took a deep breath. 

How was he going to do this?

“Um...Tommy, can you do something for me, please?”

Weakly, “Yes, Sam.” 

Here goes nothing.

“Don’t look, keep your head in my chest, but go ahead and start telling me about your favorite animal, okay?” Tommy sniffled. 

“I don’t r-really have one,” he said through hiccupping sobs. “Tubbo likes b-bees, though.” 

“That’s good,” Sam encouraged. “Tell me about bees, then.” Tommy let out a weak, shuddering breath. 

“They’re y-yellow, and they buzz around and shit,” he said shakily. “There were usually some around h-here, actually.” Tommy made a slight movement almost to lift his head to spot one, and Sam gently pushed him back into his chest. 

“Remember, we’re not looking around, okay?” Tommy nodded, movement curbed slightly by Sam’s shirt. 

“R-right. I’m not looking,” he promised. Sam smiled, and ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair once more. 

“All right. Well, Tubbo likes bees, huh? Is yellow his favorite color?” Tommy shook his head. 

“N-no, his favorite color is green,” answered Tommy. “His favorite shirt is green, so that’s what he likes.” Sam saw Hotel Innit in the distance and his shoulders slumped with relief. 

“Thanks for tellin’ me, Toms. You’re doing great. We’re almost home now, you and I.”

“Okay,” Tommy said softly. Sam noticed the lack of hiccups punctuating the phrase. Hopefully, he was able to calm down just a touch. 

Sam finally traded soggy, blood-soaked grass for slabs of oak wood outside the hotel, and breathed out a sigh. It felt like he had been holding his breath that entire time. Gently, he adjusted Tommy to be held more by his left arm, and pulled the door to the lobby open with his right. 

“Just a little bit longer, okay, kiddo?” Tommy nodded against his chest almost sleepily, and Sam smiled to himself. 

It had been a long day for the boy. Of course he’d be tired. 

Gently, he propped himself up in the elevator, and sent them flying high in the redstone machine towards the top suite. With a pleasant ding, Sam walked out and set Tommy down gently on the bed. 

“Toms, I’m going to take your shoes off for you,” he said quietly, untying the laces of his grimy sneakers. He grimaced. The boy’s worn high-tops, once white, were now sticky with dark maroon stains. He’d have to scrub those out in the morning. 

As soon as he wrangled them off, Sam paused and studied the kid in the bed. His shirt and pants were still mottled with crusted blood, but he didn’t know if Tommy even had it in him to get changed. He looked worn out in every sense of the word. 

Quietly, he pulled the comforter of the queen bed over the boy’s lanky figure and jogged into the staff room on the lower floor. All employees kept a spare change of clothes, and Tommy was no exception. Sam picked up a clean shirt, clean pants, and a glass of water, and walked back up to the hotel room, placing them cautiously on the floor by the bed. Tommy wouldn’t want to get changed now, he reasoned, but he would want to take a shower as soon as he woke up. The least he could do was put out a fresh change of clothes for him. 

Sam checked to see that the kid was properly tucked in, then reached to turn off the light. He attempted to pad out of the room unnoticed, but was interrupted by a shy, raspy voice from the bed.

“Sam?” Sam turned, and nearly fell in his haste back to the bedside. 

“Yeah, Tommy?” he replied softly. With a gentle hand, he brushed away a piece of hair stranded on the boy’s sweat-ridden forehead. “Are you okay?” Tommy swallowed hard. 

“I know this is a lot to ask, but…” He trailed off. There was a beat of silence in the dark room. 

“Yeah?” Sam prompted. Tommy sniffled. 

“I just...I know you said not to look, but every time I close my eyes, I just see that field?” Tommy’s voice cracked on the last word, voice turning up as if asking a question. Sam’s heart squeezed in his chest. 

“Oh, Tommy,” he muttered, combing his fingers through the boy’s hair. He clearly didn’t know what to do with his hands. “I’m so sorry, kid.” Tommy sucked in a labored breath. 

“Just...can you stay with me?” he said sheepishly, a flush spreading over his face. The sound was no louder than a whisper, but Sam could feel all the meaning behind it. 

“Of course, Toms. I’ll be here as long as you need,” Sam answered. “C’mon, scoot over.” Tommy obliged right away. As soon as Sam was under the covers (just as bloody, he realized with a wrinkled nose,) Tommy pressed his head into the man’s chest. 

“Thank you,” he said, muffled. Sam smiled softly. 

“Anything you need, kid. I’m here.” He rubbed gentle circles into the boy’s back. Sam felt the stiff body relax next to him, tensed muscles slowly releasing as he calmed. 

The day was horrific. And it wasn’t going to end there, Sam reflected grimly, because the egg still hadn’t been defeated. 

There would be more days like this one. 

But with Tommy finally breathing evenly next to him, Sam knew it would be alright in the end.

He was going to protect his kid. 

No matter the consequence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Check back before the month ends, hopefully I'll have more writing out for you <33
> 
> Let me know what you think! I read every single comment, and they genuinely mean the world to me. 
> 
> Also, I just got a twitter! @mintyyfreshtwt, come and say hi!
> 
> Wishing you the best, reader! Have a great day/night!


End file.
